Until Now (Harry Styles)

Chapter 11

Harry stepped to the side as I walked into his apartment, the plate of spaghetti in my hands. “Care to explain?” I asked. My hazel eyes were wide as I took in his appearance. Not just what he was wearing, which were a pair of loose fitting sweats and a black t-shirt, but his face. His face was beaten and battered. “Who did you get into a fight with this time?” I asked, a large amount of concern laced in my voice.

He smirked. He literally just smirked. Like having his beautiful face beaten up wasn’t a big deal. “You should see the other guy.” He shrugged, taking the plate of food from my shaking grasp. He trudged his sore-looking body across the apartment to his kitchen, placed exactly like my own in my apartment. Come to think about it. He had the same layout as my apartment, yet it was completely his own.

“Seriously, what did you do this time?” I stood impatiently waiting for his answer. I placed my hands on my hips without thinking and I probably looked like the biggest bitch in the world. He merely shrugged again and sat down heavily at his table. Magazines and newspapers were spread across the surface of the table. He winced and from what I could tell, it wasn’t just his face that was badly hurt, though his face was sporting two black eyes, which were probably caused by whatever happened to his swollen nose. There was a large cut under his left eye, right along his prominent cheekbone. His lip was busted and his jaw bruised. He was a mess.

“Why do you care so much?” He asked, stabbing a fork into noodles and sauce and spinning it. I lowered my hands from my hips. Why did I care so much? Whatever Harry did, he probably deserved it. I sighed and took a seat opposite of him at the table. He allowed me into his apartment, which meant I was in good company. I figured taking a seat at his table wouldn’t be absurd, but it still felt awkward to sit so civilized with Harry.

“I don’t care.” I pouted.

“You do.” Harry flashed his teeth at me. He continued to spin the fork in the pasta.

“What makes you think I do?”

“You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t. I’m not exactly a model citizen. I haven’t been the nicest person towards you, and yet you keep coming around.” Harry brought the fork full of pasta up from the plate and to his lips. He opened his mouth and wrapped it around the food, removing the clean utensil slowly. He chewed almost purposefully slow and winced, probably due to his bruised jaw.

“Okay, say I am concerned.” Well, not for his well-being, but for his face. Who else would I be able to look at for eye candy? “Would you answer my question as to what happened?”

 I watched as Harry’s Adam’s apple moved against his neck as he swallowed. He cleared his throat and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Zayn.”

I shook my head in confusion. If he fought with Zayn then that meant- “Perrie. So Zayn found out?” I replied. He nodded and winced again, setting the fork down and getting up from his seat at the table. He swayed over to his cabinets and once he got to the countertop, which was only a few feet from where we were sitting he stumbled and clutched the rim of the surface. I stood up immediately. “Hey…” I cautiously approached him. “You okay?” I went to rest a hand on his back, but he moved and my heart jumped into my throat.

“Yeah, just getting some Tylenol.” He opened the cabinet in front of him and I stood back. He grabbed for the small, red-labeled bottle and tried to unscrew the cap, failing miserably.